


Promote Synergy

by persicae



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Miscommunication, Sex Toys, like a boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23856505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persicae/pseuds/persicae
Summary: When Galo calls Lio bossy, Lio sets out to prove he's not bossy, he's the boss.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 10
Kudos: 185





	Promote Synergy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kilzom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kilzom/gifts).



Lio has worn command for so long that he’s forgotten how to function without it.

This realization comes with a little help.

“You know, you’re really bossy,” Galo observes over Lio’s shoulder, standing close enough that Lio grits his teeth. He’s trying to write an all-staff email for the former-Burnish nonprofit that Lio’s somehow started to run, but Galo is distracting him. He’s used the wrong character three times now. One of Galo’s big fingers jabs at the computer screen, and Lio smacks it away. “That’s not the right kanji.”

“I know! Stop hovering, I’m trying to work!” Lio pushes him away but without any Burnish strength, Lio can’t make him go. It’s an utter outrage. “Also, I’m not bossy. People are just wrong.”

“Yeah, you are,” Galo says with a crease in his brows, like it should be obvious. “You’re always telling people what to do. See?” His finger comes to touch Lio’s screen again and Lio slaps it. He puts on an accent he clearly thinks is fancy as he reads, “Per the last staff meeting, for the upcoming gala, all employees will be required to retake basic training on _all —_ ”

“I’m not bossy, I’m _in charge_ ,” Lio snaps. “This is my responsibility.”

“Then what about Lucia?” Galo argues. “You told her to be quiet and stop interrupting the meeting yesterday!”

“The meeting that _I_ was running! If Burning Rescue wants to work with the Mad Burnish and Promare — and I still can’t believe you convinced Meis and Gueira to vote in favor of that name — you should be _listening_ to us! Lucia kept interrupting to talk about her _gadgets_ and I don’t care _how_ useful they are, she’ll have to wait to do anything with them until after this event is dealt with.” Lio finally turns, scowling at Galo. “All of you are constantly talking over each other, it’s a miracle anyone can hear themselves think.”

Galo seems disappointed for an instant, but shrugs it off so quickly that Lio doesn’t know what to make of it. Galo beams. “I don’t think! I _do_! That’s why I’m Burning Rescue’s Number One firefighting maniac!” He strikes a pose, which makes Lio both embarrassed for him and stupidly attracted to him.

“Idiot,” Lio mutters under his breath, but Galo’s smile simply gets impossibly brighter. Louder, he adds, “Are you going to let me finish this email or not?”

“Not!” Galo declares. “That email can wait, Bossypants! It’s dinner time, and we’re going out for pizza!” Galo bodily lifts Lio out of his chair and throws him over Galo’s shoulder, only to have Lio squawk and try to wriggle free. “Also, be nice to Remi. You don’t always have to be smarter than him!”

“I _am_ smarter than him — ” Lio begins, but because he’s stupid for one person on this earth, he allows Galo to haul him to the entrance of their apartment. Only then does he squirm free to zips up his boots before stealing one of Galo’s hoodies, which looks immensely oversized on him.

Every single one of Galo’s thoughts are always clear on his face. Lio watches with private amusement as possessiveness, righteousness, and hunger all war on Galo’s face, expression screwed up like a gear has gotten jammed.

“Dinner?” he prompts, and Galo finally blinks.

“Yeah!” he shouts, and grabs Lio’s hand, hauling him out the door.

~*~

Alright, so perhaps Lio is a _little_ bossy.

He can’t help it. He’s been the one in charge since childhood. He’s learned how to lead through sheer determination. He’s no longer so proud that he will turn down help on sight, but he’d rather have no help at all than help that will run counter to what he actually needs, and he’s not afraid of saying as much. The Burnish have been through enough. They don’t need to suffer more because of government inaction, or discrimination, or uncertain safety while trying to integrate back into society. That’s why Lio founded Promare in the first place. This is the best way he knows to put out the fires the Mad Burnish created.

But now that Galo’s said something, it makes Lio far more conscious of his behavior than it would have coming from anyone else. Galo truly doesn’t think, he just says whatever he says from the heart, whether it’s something he’s noticed about someone, or his feelings, or that he’s trying to make the important decision between watching Fast Five or Gonin.

Lio had once been _riding him_ when Galo had blurted he was hungry, but they didn’t have chocolate cake in the house, and all he could think about was chocolate cake.

Lio had ensured that he couldn’t think about anything at all, then kicked him out to bring them both back dessert. He had deserved as much, because he’d made Lio hungry for chocolate cake too.

This isn’t as fun as craving chocolate cake, though. The next day, when Lio’s at the office looking over the community open house events being scheduled to raise awareness and encourage ticket sales for the gala, he opens his mouth to demand it be done a better and more efficient way. He stops himself, mouth still open, and then shuts it with a click.

“Boss?” Souta asks, looking even more terrified than if Lio had simply scolded him. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” he says tersely. “Send it to Meis to get it up on the website, and this time don’t forget to cc me on the email.” Then he realizes what he just said, and wants to overturn his desk. He can’t overturn the desk though, or set it on fire. Instead, he follows Souta out of his office, then stomps past him, headed for the roof of their building.

He screams through gritted teeth. Several people stop on the street below to stare upwards. Lio ignores them.

Galo’s gotten under his skin.

~*~

All told, it’s been nearly a year since the Promare left.

It had seemed natural, when Lio first proposed it, to celebrate the peace that came with their departure. But although Lio can’t help but mourn the loss of their unexpected partners like so many of the Burnish, he’s always been practical. He’s always set aside his own needs for others, until Galo had done the same for him.

A such a charity event would serve many purposes — it would publicly remind the government and citizens that the Burnish, Mad or otherwise, were just normal people now. It would highlight the ongoing needs of the former Burnish and their adjustment to being welcome in society once more. It would inspire more reparations, both from the former Burnish in helping them built what they once destroyed, but also from the government that had so badly abused them and forced Lio to strike back. It was badly needed.

And Lio had had _no idea_ how much work a charity event was until he began planning it.

He starts waking up in cold sweats at three in the morning, not over whether his people would be murdered, but over whether the newly elected governor would snub the event at the last minute. The items on his list seem endless, and most of them stupid, but Lio unfortunately knows just how much appearances matter and so he deals with them himself. Besides, the staff at Promare is _tiny_ compared to the amount of work that constantly needs to be done, and so Lio is busy around the clock, handling things that a larger organization could delegate to someone who wasn’t the _head of the organization_.

The event is in less than a month when the caterer backs out.

Lio takes a deep breath, so he won’t rip Gueira’s head off for being the messenger. Gueira and Meis have done as much as he has for this event, and they’re run every bit as ragged. This is not his fault.

Lio crushes the pen in his fist so hard that the plastic snaps, and blue ink gushes all over his hand and the desk. “Get me a new list of potential caterers within the next hour who’d be willing to work on this short notice. Schedule meetings with them to do taste-tests of the food, and then forward me all of the information so I can clear my schedule. And have someone clean up my desk.”

He doesn’t even have the time to get over dealing with this particular fire before he’s on the phone with the event hall. It’s tucked against his ear while he tries to also make notes for the next staff meeting, but mostly he’d staring blankly at the page as he talks. “No, we need _fifteen_ tables there, not five. Yes, correct, but you are missing — yes. Yes. Fine, but you are going to charge us two thousand less yen because of the change, and you are going to send that change to me in writing or this will not be accepted.” His voice is sharp, he knows it is.

It’s _bossy_.

Lio is going to shake Galo until what few brain cells he has start leaking out of his ears. If people would simply get themselves together, he wouldn’t need to demand they do what they ought to do. That shouldn’t be considered bossy. It’s the quality of a leader.

Twenty minutes later, as he angrily types back a scathing email when the event hall doesn’t mention a single word about reducing the price of their booking, he promises himself that he’ll be less bossy.

Tomorrow.

~*~

Galo loves food.

Lio also loves food, but Galo loves it — loves everything — with the kind of pure-hearted earnestness that Lio finds dazzling. Galo is also Promepolis’ hero and everyone wants to please him. Most importantly, though, Galo is surprisingly good at putting people at ease.

All of those things make it very easy for Lio to simply let Galo be Galo, while Lio shamelessly uses it to their advantage.

And it is _their_ advantage. Galo will walk out with both his hollow legs filled.

“No, not the mushroom caps with crab, the ones with the vegetarian mix,” Lio says sharply as Tsushima-san, the caterer, sets the plate down. “We need to provide several vegetarian options for our guests, so I’m unclear why you brought it. Galo, don’t touch that.” He offers a steely-eyed glare at Tsushima-san, who begins to sweat.

“But Fotia-san should consider the crab-stuffed mushrooms as well! They use local crab meat and are one of our most popular options. Surely Fotia-san and Thymos-san would like to at least try them?”

“No,” Lio replies without batting a lash. “We can’t afford them without dropping one of the other appetizers, and we need at least five different options for our guests.” He taps his nails against the table, impatient. “We’d also like to try the miso-glazed eggplant, since it’s currently in season."

“Eh? But Lio, can’t we just try them?” Galo protests, and Tsushima-san takes advantage of Galo’s request to place the plate back on the table.

“It would be a shame not to at least taste them before you hire us,” Tsushima-san urges with a certain sly air that makes Lio mentally note him down as an option for future events, if Lio’s insane enough to do them. He appreciates people willing to push, just a little, and Tsushima-san’s food is so amazing that Lio desperately wants to join Galo in eating everything on the table. And possibly the table itself, if Tsushima-san has worked his magic on that, too.

Instead, he keeps his composure and keeps letting Galo win him little victories.

“And if we like them,” Galo says eagerly, eyeing the little plate like he’s going to hoover them all up with his mouth, “I bet you and Tsushima can figure out a deal! Right, Tsushima?” He smiles, utterly guileless. Lio watches Tsushima go blind from the brightness, looking helplessly towards Lio as though Lio is going to rescue him from Galo’s…Galo-ness.

Lio traps Tsushima-san with his gaze. “Well?” he demands. “Do you think we could work out a deal this time around?” He relents just enough, adding casually, “If so, I’m sure that we can negotiate the terms for future events as well, given that you’d be making this happen on an immensely short timeline. I recognize that three weeks puts you at an extreme disadvantage.”

Then he holds his breath as Tsushima-san crumbles. “Y-Yes,” he mutters, wiping sweat from his brow. “Of course, of course Fotia-san.”

Lio smiles, baring his teeth. “Thank you very much, Tsushima-san.”

“You’re _really_ helping us out!” Galo declares, and strikes a sudden pose. “You have a burning soul too! A chef’s burning soul! And your food is definitely the best of everything we’ve eaten today!”

While Tsushima-san stammers through a response, blushing furiously at the praise, Lio takes the opportunity to sweep half the crab-stuffed mushrooms onto his plate.

When Tsushima departs to bring in the next course though, Galo leans down and asks in what he probably thinks is a whisper but is really a regular tone of voice, “Lio, aren’t you being a little bossy with Tsushima?”

A pang throbs in Lio’s heart, and so he shoves a mushroom into Galo’s mouth. “Shut up.”

But the nagging worry haunts him for the rest of the day.

~*~

The gala goes off without a hitch, and Promare makes its fundraising goal.

Just barely, but they make it.

Lio can feel the tension draining out of him as he celebrates with both the Promare and Burning Rescue crews. They’ve been drinking most of the evening, but now that everyone else is gone and the event hall cleaned up, they’re breaking out the swill that has nothing but its high alcohol content to recommend it. Lio finds it easier than usual to withstand the teasing that Burning Rescue attempts to rile him up with thanks to their success. Even without the flush of victory, however, he would find it easier to hold his tongue simply from the way Galo keeps glancing at him, as though waiting for him to say something, some bright spark in his eyes.

Lio ignores it.

Instead, when his glass is empty, Lio heads for the kitchen to get some water. He drains the glass in huge gulps and then steps out the back, cool air pleasant against his flushed skin as he tilts his head up. There are no stars in the city, but it’s a pleasant view all the same.

Galo comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around Lio’s slim frame, the bulk of him better than any jacket, and doing more to soften Lio’s residual annoyance than anything else. Galo’s long since discarded his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and Lio traces random patterns across the burn scars on his left arm absently.

“You did it, Lio,” Galo says fiercely, and Lio’s smile is helpless and absolute.

“ _We_ did,” Lio amends, playing at modesty.

Galo falls silent for a moment, shifting their weight back and forth as he thinks, and bringing Lio along for the ride. It gives Lio too much time to think as well.

And so before Galo can speak, Lio blurts out his grievances. “This never would have happened if I wasn’t _bossy_.”

There’s a palpable confusion as Galo’s gears turn. “I…know?”

“Good,” Lio mutters. “If you understand why, then don’t call me that anymore.”

“Why not?”

Lio scowls and whirls in Galo’s arms. “I’m _the boss_. I’m the one who makes sure Promare stays afloat. I’m the one who is helping the former Burnish. I’m the one who forces the government to listen to us.” He jabs a finger in Galo’s chest. “It’s not being bossy when you’re the boss.”

Galo’s brow furrows. “But, Lio…I never said it was a bad thing. What’s wrong with being bossy?”

“What?!”

“ _What_ what?!”

“You — what do you _mean_ , you never said it was a bad thing!”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing!” Galo shouts, waving his hands. “I didn’t!”

“Then why do you keep pointing out when I’m bossy?” Lio demands.

Beneath Lio’s astonished gaze, Galo Thymos, hero of Promepolis, with the burning soul of a firefighter, blushes and can’t meet Lio’s eyes. “Because I like it,” he mutters. “And I thought you’d be bossy to me about being bossy.”

Oh. _Oh_.

Lio is torn between being impressed and horrified.

He’s pretty sure he’s just encountered what passes for flirting in Galo’s mind.

With barely restrained laughter in his voice, Lio asks, “Galo, do you want me to boss you around during sex?”

With great relief in his voice despite the blaze of color in his cheeks, Galo replies, “ _Yes_.”

Lio hauls Galo in for a searing kiss, bodies pressed up against each other and making Lio’s blood hum with need. Only when he’s thoroughly ravaged Galo’s mouth does Lio step back and admire what he’s done. Galo’s arms are straining at the fabric of his button-down, hair in disarray, mouth scarlet with a hint of a tongue licking over his lips as he stares down Lio.

But he doesn’t move, because he knows who’s the boss.

Lio is going to _wreck him_.

“Go inside, tell everyone we’re leaving, and grab our stuff. And then meet me at your motorcycle.”

Galo leaves at a sprint while Lio meanders towards the front of the building. He didn’t need to make Galo tell everyone that they’re leaving — Lio knows everyone is going to know precisely what they were doing out here and will be continuing at home — but there’s a certain thrill that comes with having Galo do something simply because Lio says so.

Alright. So perhaps he’s more than just a _little_ bossy.

He’s a lot bossy, and he’s going to make sure they both enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Lio’s straddling Galo’s bike possessively, leaning on the handlebars, when Galo emerges from the event hall. He spots Lio and his eyes go wide, their helmets in one hand and keys in the other. Lio smiles at him with a distinct edge.

“Get on,” he commands coolly. “I’m driving.”

There is no one else on the planet that Galo would let get away with saying those words. But for Lio, Galo tosses first the keys and then his helmet to him before yanking his own helmet on and nearly sprinting to the bike. Galo hadn’t even stopped long enough to figure out where his suit jacket had gone.

Lio would protest, but the fact of the matter is that the rest of Galo’s suit isn’t going to survive either.

He weaves in and out of Promapolis’ late night traffic to the apartment they share on the east side of town. Galo has his arms wrapped securely around Lio’s waist, his front plastered to Lio’s back and making Lio’s blood thrill. Their helmets clack together companionably every so often from the closeness, and their apartment building can’t come soon enough.

They race up the stairs three at a time while taking off the helmets. At the door, Galo shoves Lio aside to fumble for their keys and wallet in his pockets. When he finally manages to get the door open and they tumble inside, hanging up their helmets and kicking off their shoes so they can kiss each other properly.

Lio jumps into Galo’s arms, wrapping his legs around Galo’s waist, and tugs on his hair while snapping, “Bedroom. Now,” between kisses. “Now, now, now.”

Galo carries him effortlessly towards the bedroom without tripping on anything they’ve left lying on the floor. Before they actually make it to the bedroom, though, Galo pins him against the wall to try and steal more kisses. Lio turns his head aside, gripping Galo’s hair painfully tight. “Didn’t I say carry me to the bedroom?”

Groaning, Galo drops his forehead onto Lio’s shoulder, but obediently carries him into the bedroom and tosses him onto the bed.

Before he tosses Lio onto the bed, Lio can feel his muscles bunching up and squawks, “Don’t you _dare_ !” but it’s too late. He goes flying through the air and lands on his back, bouncing up into the air before he catches himself. Galo nearly leaps onto the bed too, but Lio kicks at him, and almost hits a region that would put an end to their evening if he’d managed contact. Instead he just brushes Galo’s dick with the ball of his foot, and Galo _moans_.

It’s very loud in the sudden silence of their room, and they stare at each other.

Lio can hear his own heartbeat as he says softly, “Get on your knees, Galo.”

Galo drops to his knees like his strings have been cut, wide eyes bright in his face, bright in the city lights streaming through the window as their only illumination. Lio shifts to the edge of the bed while Galo stares up at him. Lio stands, and somehow he’s the captive one under Galo’s intense gaze.

Even so, he manages to turn his back to Galo and strips there in the dim room. He doesn’t race through undressing, just drapes his jacket atop the bureau, unknotting his tie and dropping it next to the jacket. He unbuttons his pants and steps out of them, then shucks off his shirt and undershirt, leaving himself only in his underwear.

He doesn’t pay any attention to Galo the entire time.

Then, only when he’s satisfied that Galo’s every sense is trained on him like an obedient dog, does Lio turn, stripping out of his underwear and coming to sit on the edge of the bed and leans his head on his hand as he studies Galo.

Although Lio hasn’t done anything to him in long minutes, Galo’s straining at the front of his pants. So as not to follow or touch Lio, he’s even gripping his own thighs so hard his knuckles have gone white. It would be so easy for them to touch, so Lio makes sure they don’t.

“You’re going to suck me off,” Lio tells him conversationally, and holds his other hand up before Galo can respond. “Don’t speak. There’s no need for you to do anything other than listen. You’re going to suck me off. While I do it, the only friction you’re going to get is my foot. You can do whatever you want, but if you come before I do, you’re not going to come for a week. I’ve been feeling bad about your comments for weeks, so now you’re going to make up for it, aren’t you?”

Galo nods so hard that his head is at risk of coming right off his shoulders. He doesn’t say a word, though, and for that, Lio rewards him with a dizzying kiss before pulling away again.

The more he thinks about it, however, the more he wants to make it more of a challenge. Galo deserves to be pushed.

The smile that crosses Lio’s face makes Galo break out into a sweat, which only makes Lio smile widen.

Then he goes to dig out one of their toys and some lube, commanding, “Lean forward, hands on the edge of the bed.” As Galo moves, Lio returns to his side, keeping what he’d brought out of sight. He kneels behind Galo and unbuckles his pants, pushing them and his underwear down to his thighs and jerking him off a few times before leaving Galo with his hips thrusting into the air with a desperate moan.

Lio tuts. “Noises like that are fine, but no demanding more than I’m giving you. I’m already being generous, aren’t I?”

Galo nods furiously again. Lio hums, and then takes the tie that he’d forced Galo into and pulls it free before using it to gag him. “There,” he says, satisfied. “Now you don’t have to think so hard about it.”

Galo offers him a relieved glance over his shoulder, and says something muffled that’s probably thanks, but it’s unclear due to the gag. Lio pats him on the shoulder. “Good. Now face forward again.”

As Galo grips the sheets and tries to spread his thighs more invitingly, Lio just grabs Galo’s ass, digging his nails in. Galo’s ass is an unspeakably beautiful work of art, and Lio likes the way it so perfectly fits the palm of his hand. He smacks it a few times too, without any warning, until it’s soft pink under his fingertips. Galo starts moaning somewhere around the second smack, and doesn’t stop until Lio presses a kiss to the sensitive skin. Little shivers wrack his body too as a flush spreads from his face down his chest, even touching his thighs.

He’s beautiful.

He only gets more beautiful as Lio slicks two fingers and presses them inside Galo, making him choke on a groan. His head drops forward and Lio’s heart skips a beat as he start to fuck Galo in earnest. Galo can’t help but rock back on Lio’s fingers, and Lio mostly allows it, considering how good he’s being otherwise — Galo’s fingers are gripping the edge of the bed so tightly he’d liable to poke holes in it, and the only sounds he’s making are eager pants and moans. Besides, Lio’s not putting any pressure on Galo’s prostate yet.

The toy he’s brought isn’t large, so he only teases Galo’s rim with a third finger before stopping and slicking up the toy. Galo squirms, thick cock a deep red that makes Lio’s mouth water. He can’t help but trace a fingertip along the tip and Galo shudders. Satisfied, Lio finally pushes the prostate massager inside Galo. It’s obvious when it’s found its target, because Galo shouts so loudly their neighbors can probably hear.

Lio doesn’t have it in him to be ashamed.

Then, with Galo staring at him like he’s just set a fire in their living room, Lio pulls Galo’s underwear and pants back up, and buttons them closed.

“Alright, you can go back to kneeling now.”

Lio settles back on the bed in front of Galo, drinking in the sight of Galo’s tortured expression. If anything, the bulge in his pants is more obvious now, straining at the zipper. His hips are constantly shifting, and Lio can tell when the massager presses against his prostate just right because Galo’s eyes practically cross as he fucks up into nothing in particular. Lio leans forward, fingertip brushing over the corner of Galo’s mouth where the impromptu gag cuts in, then kisses over the cloth.

Galo closes his eyes, whining.

“Are you ready to suck me off now?” Lio murmurs, tugging gently on Galo’s hair until their eyes meet. “I’m betting that a cock in your mouth is a more satisfying way of getting gagged than this.” He presses his fingers into Galo’s mouth past the gag and fucks his mouth a few times, Galo’s hips jerking up in concert with every thrust.

Mindful of his manners, Galo just sucks Lio’s fingers as best as he can, a little spit escaping. Lio smiles. “Good boy.”

He releases Galo from the gag and then spreads his thighs, one of his feet pressing against Galo’s crotch. Like a starving man, Galo takes all of Lio in one swallow, tongue working desperately against the underside as he sucks.

Lio shouts, more from the sudden intensity than anything, and grabs Galo’s hair as Lio curls in on himself slightly. Galo doesn’t seem to notice, hardly daring to rock up against Lio’s foot lest he risk coming first. Instead, all his focus is pulling out every trick he knows to make Lio come hard and fast. The worst part is that he’s very, very, _very_ good at doing just that, and Lio can barely breathe. He doesn’t have the strength to pull Galo away, or make him slow down at this point — he’s never managed to slow Galo Thymos in his life, has never wanted to — so instead he rubs his foot firmly against Galo’s dick.

Galo chokes and groans around Lio’s cock, making Lio fuck up into his mouth instinctively. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Lio chants, abs clenching as he tries not to come. Desire boils under his skin.

Galo’s nails dig into Lio’s thighs, not holding him down — the opposite, in fact. Encouraging him to stop restraining himself and take Galo’s mouth completely, and Lio’s control snaps.

He ruthlessly presses his foot down on Galo’s cock and then thrusts into his mouth, chasing his own orgasm. It doesn’t take long to find, either. Perhaps a dozen thrusts later, Lio comes with the same force as a building being dropped on his head, so deep in Galo’s throat that he can feel Galo swallowing around him. He’s blind for a moment, consumed by pleasure, Galo’s warmth against his skin.

When he opens his eyes again, dazed, Galo is still whimpering. He’s not speaking though, mouth still wrapped around Lio’s dick, aftershocks from Galo’s tongue fluttering beneath Lio’s skin.

“Galo, Galo,” Lio rasps, and yanks him up by his hair.

Galo’s a mess. His eyes are all pupil and red-rimmed from choking on Lio’s cock. There’s a trail of come and spit coming from his lips. His muscles are straining at the seams of his shirt like he’s going to burst free of them and bury himself in Lio. The front of his suit pants is soaked with precome.

Lio’s cock twitches at the sight of him.

Galo offers him a desperate pout.

Lio sits up and hauls Galo down for a kiss, tasting himself in Galo’s mouth as he wrenches open the belt and pants, probably ruining both, as though they weren’t already ruined, and fisting Galo’s cock. Galo yells, clutching at Lio, and comes in thick spurts all over Lio’s hand and their fronts. Lio works him through it until Galo collapses on top of him, smearing come everywhere, and panting against Lio’s jaw. Galo looks like he might be dead. That’s okay, because Lio’s pretty sure that he’s a corpse too.

“Was that bossy enough for you?” Lio mutters at the ceiling. He can’t quite breathe with Galo’s weight on top of him, but he also can’t be bothered to shove him off.

There’s a suspicious silence.

“Galo?”

Galo lifts his head, eyes already bright with energy in a way that makes Lio’s skin prickle. “But Lio,” he whines, “that wasn’t bossy at _all_.”

Lio stares at him. Galo grins. Their bodies are faintly sticky with sweat and other less pleasant things. They have thoroughly ruined Galo’s only suit, and now Lio will have to get him another. Galo’s voice is going to rasp for the next day at least, informing absolutely everyone what they got up to tonight.

Lio grins, exactly as determined as Galo.

“Well if that’s the case, Galo Thymos,” he purrs, “I think it’s time you get on your hands and knees, while I get something to hold you still.”

**Author's Note:**

> TAAVI HAPPY BIRTHDAY COME GET THE LIOGALO FOOD THAT YOU DESERVE :D You're such an amazing, supportive, earnest, funny, and warm-hearted friend, and I have no idea what I'd do without you. Writing this is just a (small) token of my appreciation, because I can never thank you enough for all that you've done <3
> 
> Also, is the title a Lonely Island lyric (like a boss)? Why yes, yes it is (like a boss). To all you readers, meet a giant fish (like a boss), fuck his brains out (like a boss).
> 
> Thank you to Essie for the betaing, and you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/rosa_persicae)!


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